


Two Kroner to Midnight

by Roadstergal



Category: Pundit RPF (US), Tek Jansen - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadstergal/pseuds/Roadstergal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another mission for the intrepid Tek and his completely, utterly, unquestionably platonic male sidekick.  Will they avert war between two ancient space races?  Will Tek's hair stay perfectly in place in an emergency?  Will there be more rhetorical questions?</p><p>A bit of a followup to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/313841">High Tek</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Kroner to Midnight

_After having the implants surgically removed, Tek Jansen wasted no time in returning to action. A report had come in from the farthest reaches of the galaxy - the cruel and despotic Zendvakians had invaded the homeworld of the peacefully taupe Slavinians. Tek and his indefatigable sidekick headed out to the Slavinian planet, knowing that the slightest delay would prove fatal to the placid Slavinian civilization..._

The Alpha Squad Seven space dock was large and impressive. Every visible surface was brushed stainless steel, polished every evening by underpaid workers from Mexicalus. Huge floodlights (they were actually transparent prisons that housed the inmates of more fluorescent races) illuminated the dock with beams that danced in dizzying patterns before coming to rest on the sleek, poised fighter ship that sat in the middle of the dock - the _Clitoris_. A legendary ship this was, one that could sneak into any known radar system and fly out the other side undetected. The men at the controls of said radar systems were simply unable to find it.

A lone figure, dressed in black, stood beside the ship. The figure tapped its foot. It checked the chronometer on its wrist. It whistled. It paced. It scratched its short mop of greying curls and checked its chronometer again.

After some time, a tall, muscular figure in form-fitting vinyl, his suit dyed in a manly pattern of red, white, and blue, staggered towards the ship. A bag easily as large as he was rested across his back; its weight seemed to be the reason for his tipsy gait. The figure that stood next to the ship crossed his arms and watched the larger man's drunken weave of a path, which eventually ended at the ship. The colorful figure dropped the bag on the ground with a relieved sigh.

"Mars attacks!" he gasped. "That is heavy! Well," he added, pulling himself up to his full, impressive height, "we must be prepared! We wouldn't want to arrive at Slavinia and discover we had left something at home. It's a long walk!" His bellow of deep-voiced laughter was out of proportion to even the large space-dock.

"Right, right," the other man replied, sounding like a man who has been waiting next to a ship for as long as he had been waiting next to the ship. "Does this mean we're ready to _go_ , Tek?"

"Just one more bag. I won't be a jiffy!" Tek flashed a brilliant grin and dashed back the way he had entered - taking a much straighter route with the pack off of his back.

The other man listened to the bang of Tek's boots dying away in the distance, then turned to the bag with a sigh. He unzipped it and started to root through its contents. _Garnier Nutrisse Flekfruit-Scented Shampoo. Sta-Hold Extra Firm Gel. Very Old Spice Body Spray. Astroglide Cherry-Flavored Personal Lubricant_. A side compartment held breath mints and a bottle of little blue pills. The man hastily zipped the bag shut, then turned to a Mexicalan worker who had been looking at the process with interest.

"Can you use this?" the man asked the worker.

"Si, senor." The worker extended one of his five arms and wrapped it around the bag, hauling it away with surprising swiftness.

Tek returned, a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Are we ready to go?" he asked, his voice loud enough to be heard from the other side of the solar system.

The man nodded. "Yes. We're ready."

"Well, get in, Circumcised Crusader! What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation from the Zendvakians?" Tek laughed, then paused and looked down at the Crusader. "You know, you could stand to lose a little weight."

"Gee. thanks," the Crusader grumbled, walking onto the ship behind Tek.

* * *

The shining ship flew through the depths of space, plunging towards Slavinia with mind-bending velocity. Tek sat at the controls, watching over the Crusader's shoulder. "Easy, now, easy! Steady as she goes! You know how I feel about my ship. Only the gentlest of touches on my Clitoris!"

"Yes, I know," the Crusader replied.

* * *

Tek stood in front of the viewport, tapping his lips with his finger as he watched the maneuvers of the Zendvekian space militia. His other hand was on his hip; the pose was one designed to maximize the bulge of the broad muscles across his chest and back, and the spread of his legs clenched his buttocks in a gravity-defying manner. It was an impressive pose; however, the only person around to see it was the Circumcised Crusader, who was shuffling out into the cockpit from the small living area. His hair was damp, he held a towel in place around his waist, and he was sipping at a steaming cup of coffee. "Mornin'."

"Mercury Mirage!" Tek sighed. He gestured at the viewport, where the spiky black ships flitted about. "Would you look at that? It's the classic Fedoral attack scheme of Fandangus Prime! I can't believe they're using such outmoded tactics. Revellia of Nicopooocoo showed the weakness in that formation thirty years ago!" Tek pointed a finger dramatically. "One proton mine shot into the formation right _there_ , and the militia will come apart like..." Tek paused, looking at the Crusader. "Veronica Mars, Circumcised Crusader! Is that an erection?"

The Crusader looked at Tek blankly over the rim of his cup, then looked down at his towel. "I suppose so. It's a morning thing."

Tek spun dramatically, facing the door to the small living area. He extended his hand, the gesture saturated with sexual potency. "Come here. The Slavinians can win their own damn war!"

The Crusader spit a mouthful of coffee back into his cup. "You just said you can end this war with one proton mine!"

"There are more important things afoot," Tek said, not turning.

"Tek, the whole _reason_ we came out here was to intervene in this war! We agreed that it was _very_ important. We can have sex afterwards."

"Drop the towel, mister. What am I supposed to do, just _ignore_ this situation? What kind of space hero would I be?"

"A straight one?" the Crusader muttered, shuffling in Tek's wake with resignation as the man opened the door to the living area.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear you say that."

* * *

For some reason, nobody had ever questioned the fact that the _Clitoris_ had only one bed. Or that it was upholstered in red satin. Or that it had a mirror mounted above it. Such things, it seemed, were de rigueur for space heroes and their platonic male sidekicks.

Tek and the Crusader lay in that bed, sheets pulled up to their unclothed chests. Tek's brow was furrowed, and he drummed his fingers on the headboard. "That was a good bit of rum-pum-pum, if I do say so myself. But I keep getting this feeling that there's something I've forgotten." He paused, making a mental tally. "Not the lube... not the condoms... not the nipple clamps or the jelly-rubber cock ring..."

"The war between the Slavinians and the Zendvekians?" the Crusader suggested.

"I know what it was!" Tek barked, sitting upright. The sheet slid off of his muscular torso as if reluctant to let go. "The war between the Slavinians and the Zendvekians!"

* * *

The two men dashed into the cockpit, pulling on their respective uniforms. They looked out of the viewport at a very changed configuration. "Comet cleanser!" Tek gasped, his eyes widening. "This is no longer the Fedoral attack scheme of Fandangus Prime! We will need a new strategy!"

"Incoming," the Crusader said, tapping some buttons. A hologram of a greenish, twelve-eyed being draped in white cloth appeared in the middle of the cockpit.

"Greetings, Mister Tek Jansen!" the being said in a fluid voice. "I am Groknabula of Slavinia. We are pleased you have come out to offer us aid! However, the situation has changed, and we no longer require your assistance."

"Don't bet on it!" Tek replied, striking the pose that showed off his musculature to such good effect. From the front, it made his penis bulge a bit, as well. "Those Zendvekians fight like mad when they're boxed into a corner. I will take them out!"

"No, really, it's all right," Groknabula insisted. "You see, we've negotiated a peace treaty..."

"No time to talk!" Tek replied, pushing the Crusader out of the way and programming in a new course. "I know just what to do! The Zendvekians will rue this day!"

"Please... don't..." Groknabula sighed.

"ATTTAAAAAAACKKKKKKKKK!!" Tek yelled, as the _Clitoris_ plunged towards a very puzzled Zendvekian fleet.


End file.
